


It Will Be Forever

by bookworm1805



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Schmoop, Wincest - Freeform, literally so fluffy it will rot your teeth off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 17:17:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookworm1805/pseuds/bookworm1805
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary Jo Winchester falls asleep with a giggle and a smile on her face as her daddy stands above her and strokes her curly blond hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Will Be Forever

Mary Jo Winchester falls asleep with a giggle and a smile on her face as her daddy stands above her and strokes her curly blond hair.

“Goodnight, baby girl,” he whispers. He kisses her forehead and draws his hand back. He checks the room for the fifth time tonight – windows locked, devil’s trap still painted on the floorboards under the carpet, salt inlaid in the walls, stuffed angel doll sitting at her bedside – “angels – or at least one – are watching over you,” he tells her, like his mother told him – and his daughter’s covers drawn up to her chin.

Safe.

He hovers in the doorway and spares her one last lingering smile and silently shuts the door. He pads down the hallway to his bedroom and enters it quietly. He doesn’t want to wake—

“Hey, Dean,” his husband greets sleepily, and Dean winces. He shucks off his shirt and crawls into bed.

“Sorry babe, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he apologizes as he fluffs up his pillow and snuggles into it.

“It’s okay,” Sam smiles. He smacks his lips. “Mary sleeping?” He reaches out and strokes across Dean’s jaw lazily. Dean scooches forwards and bumps their noses together. Their knees knock under the covers and Dean pushes his leg between Sam’s own.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Out like a light as soon as I started in on her bedtime story.”

Sammy chuckles into his mouth. “Which one was it this time?” he asks, brushing his lips on Dean’s chin.

Dean closes his eyes and winds an arm around his brother’s waist, pulling him in tighter. Sam’s chest is warm against his, and Dean rubs circles into the skin on the small of his back. “The one about an angel who fell from grace to help save the world with his friends,” he answers. “I like to call it  _Castiel’s Tale_.”

“Wow, it even has a working title!” Sammy laughs. “You ought to look into publishing that. You may have a serious future in writing children’s books,” he teases.

Dean answers by grazing his cold toes against Sam’s calves and relishing in the responding shiver. He licks into Sam’s mouth on a sigh, tongues brushing softly together. “Can it, bitch,” he mumbles distractedly. Sam laughs again and Dean smiles.

His eyes flutter open to look at his brother’s face – his husband now, and no one but them has to know they didn’t marry into having the same last name – and what he sees makes his insides turn soft and gooey as warmth tingles from his core to the very tips of his toes.  Sammy is blinking at him drowsily, face soft with sleep and pink lips spread on a wide smile. He looks happy and flushed and  _his_.

“We’re never gonna stop saying that to each other, are we?” Sam breathes against him.

Dean continues to smile and nuzzles their noses together. “Nope,” he croons. “Never.”

He covers Sam’s hand on his jaw with his own, pulls them to his chest so they lay interlocked over his heart, and he twines their fingers together. Their wedding rings rub against each other with a quiet metallic  _clack_ , and he sees Sam’s eyes draw to the bands like a magnet.

“You’re mine, Sammy,” Dean whispers, just because he can.

Intense emotion crosses over Sam’s face too quickly for him to parse out, but he doesn’t need to because Sam tells him with his lips and tongue, fiercely covering his own. Dean abandons Sam’s hand in favor of cupping the back of his neck and hooking a leg over Sam’s hips.

He lazily grinds against his brother, both of them half-hard and getting harder, but he knows they’re too tired to do anything tonight. So they rock gently against each other, simply relishing in the closeness and intimacy of the other’s embrace.  Sam tells him with hands caressing the side of his face  _you’re mine too_ , and Dean answers in the pull of Sam’s hair and a loving suckle on his neck  _I will never let you go_.

Their breathy sighs and moans permeate the air, but they’ve been together long enough to know how not to wake their daughter, so Dean freely groans when Sam rakes his hands up Dean’s chest and licks across his collarbone. “Sammy,” he breathes, and Sam raises his head to smile at him. He knows Sam’s feeling everything he is too, know his love is echoed and returned in equal abundance. It’s how they’ve been their entire lives, so in love with each other they could choke on it.

The only thing different now is that instead of only having each other, they’ve added someone else to the center of their universe. Their beautiful, perfect, trouble-making daughter who Dean is pleased to note is taking after Sam in all the best ways and unfortunately after Dean in the worst. She has Sam’s kindness and Dean’s stubbornness, and if the pattern continues he’s sure she’ll have Uncle Cas’ sense of humor and soon enough he won’t be able to tell when she’s being sassy and when she’s genuinely confused – a quandary Dean struggled with for years with Cas until he realized his best friend had suddenly grown a sense of humor.

Dean chuckles and closes his eyes at the thought. Sam rests his forehead against his. “What’s so funny?” he asks as he wraps his arms around Dean’s waist. Dean opens his eyes and presses a kiss to Sam’s mouth.

“I was thinking about what’ll happen when Mary picks up on Cas’ dry-ass sense of humor,” he admits. “I’ll never be able to makes heads or tails of anything again.”

His husband laughs into his mouth. “It did take you years to realize Cas was messing with you,” he teases.

“Yeah yeah,” Dean mutters. “Mary will be three times as bad, ‘cause she’s got  _us_  as role models too.”

Dean opens his eyes to see Sam blinking at him seriously, smile turned down into an earnest expression. “Hey,” he chides. Dean shifts and shuts his eyes again uncomfortably. “Hey,” Sam repeats more softly. He strokes Dean’s cheekbone and against his will, Dean looks at him. Sam’s eyes swirl blue and green in the pale moonlight. “We are great parents, Dean.” Dean almost closes his eyes again and makes a joke, just to wash off this terrible vulnerability that’s suddenly come over him.

“None of that,” Sam says before Dean can act on it. Of course Sam knows when he’s feeling the most raw and cut open. He’s Sam. “ _You_  are a great parent, Dean, and you're only going to get better. We're gonna do everything dad never did for us. And when she finds out how cool her daddy was back in the day, you'll be her hero.”

Sam says this all with such adoration and love in his voice, plain honesty and faith painted across the wide open set of his features that Dean can’t help but trust him. As long as he has Sammy by his side, loving him and believing in him like he always has, he thinks he can do this.

His eyes are watery as he blinks and grins at Sam. “Yeah? Well just wait ‘til I tell her  _Sammy’s Tale_  tomorrow night. We’ll see who her hero is then. You have saved the world a few times, you know.”  Sam mumbles a protest but Dean covers his mouth with his own and kisses him sufficiently enough dissuade further conversation. “Gonna get her to call you Samwise the Brave,” he can’t help but rib as he nibbles on Sammy’s bottom lip. Then he kisses him deeper and drags his tongue along the roof of Sam’s mouth to distract him.

But Sam always has always taken after Dean, in stubbornness too, so he pulls back after a few minutes, just far enough away so he can mutter, “Didn’t do it alone,” between kisses. “Couldn’t do it without you,” he whispers as hitches his hips and nudges their cocks together through their boxers. “Never without you.”

Dean’s lips catch on Sam’s nose and he flicks his tongue against the tip. “You’re a terrible sap,” he declares with a fond grin. He presses feather light kisses against Sammy’s cheek, up the slope of his cheekbone and across his forehead, then back down his nose. He settles on his lips again and licks along the seam lazily.

They trade more sloppy kisses, mouths open and jaws slack until Dean loses track of time. His leg is tucked soundly around the back of Sam’s thigh, heel nestled in the crook of his knee. He’s half asleep by the time he mutters “I love you,” into his husband’s mouth, but he feels Sam respond by clasping their hands together and holding them over his heart. Sam’s pulse beats steadily underneath his palm.

The last thing he hears before he falls asleep is a quiet "Love you too, Dean," from his brother and the quiet click of their wedding bands.

*

When Dean wakes up their hands are still tangled together, but Mary Jo is snuggled between them, covers tugged up to her chin and thumb hanging out of her mouth. He looks at his bed-partner and finds Sam awake, smiling blearily at gazing fondly at Dean. He’s not sure when Mary joined them or why, but he’s too sleepy and content to make a fuss.

He flops onto his side and curls around behind his daughter, draping his hand across her side so his and Sam’s hands are interlocked over her belly. He brushes their fingers against each other just to hear the bands click, and then he’s asleep once more.

**Author's Note:**

> many of the thoughts in this story can be attributed to a conversation I had with my friend Justine


End file.
